In Service of the Pharaoh (League of Losers Book #2)

by Michael Atamanov

  I walked over to my acquaintances, told them of the disturbances in the night and the incoming punishers. The Engineer and Philosopher took the news surprisingly calmly. As it turned out, they were both going to tell Rumbler of a collective decision by the ‘day-only’ players to leave the river village. They’d only come to ask for some timber and other materials to repair their Dreadnought, as they called the raft that sheltered them from the beasts. That night, the Dreadnought had been attacked by some giant octopus-like monster in the river, and it was badly damaged — the railings were torn off, the rudder broken, the mast snapped. Fortunately, the players on the raft managed to fight off the aggressive beast and even took no losses. After a vote, they decided to continue life on their river raft and even to say good-bye to the village, becoming fully independent.

  This meant that for the Engineer, it was actually good news that the river village was empty — he wouldn’t have to beg the leaders of Rumbler’s Refuge for the repair materials. He was just upset that Anna had left. Grip’s widow had planned to leave the river village, but Max Dubovitsky always hoped that the experienced healer would join his group, not go beyond the barrier into the outside world. Varya’s father didn’t mourn that loss long, however, before officially inviting Julie and me to join their ‘outcast band,’ which now numbered five: the Engineer, the Philosopher, Ashot the Baker, Edward Samarsky the Mechanic, and Scout Varya Tolmachyova, who had found her father last night.

  “Only if Avir Tan-Hoshi is allowed in too!” my sister piped up.

  “And if that promise of an expedition to Hundred Skull City is kept. I need to go there tomorrow!” That was my own condition.

  The Philosopher and the Engineer exchanged glances and instantly agreed. Then Max stunned me with a new suggestion:

  “Why don’t you take command, Sergeant? You’ll make a far better leader than me or anyone else on the Dreadnought’s crew.”

  “Say yes, brother!” Julie asked. “You know better than anyone how our group can survive in this dangerous world! You can decide where we go — to Hundred Skull City or anywhere else.”

  I scratched the back of my head. The offer came as a surprise. Why me? There were three higher-level players in the group. On the other hand, out of the ‘veterans,’ only Varya the Scout had experience of surviving out in the wilds. The Engineer and Baker had spent more time in the protected village. So I agreed. And I got to work right away:

  “Load the timber and everything else we need onto the Marsh Mistress and Atlas. Julie, lead those two to the river meadow. Everyone else, wait for me to get back. I’m going to tow the raft here with the two creeping crocodiles. We’ll load as much as we can onto the Dreadnought, then get out of here before the punishers arrive. We’ll meet at the river meadow and do the repairs there.”

  “Alright, Sergeant, but why are we headed upstream?” the Engineer asked. “Hundred Skull City is the other way.”

  “It’s safe at the river meadow. And I have almost a ton of giga-komodo bone plates hidden there. Enough to turn our raft into an impenetrable battleship!”

  Chapter 9 [Sergeant]

  Hard Decisions

  THE DAY WAS unlike any other. We started loading up logs and planks and taking them to the river meadow at first light. Then we repaired and ‘upgraded’ our raft. We retied the main logs, which gave us more space. We hammered together and attached bone plates along the edges. We stuck sharpened metal spikes into the hull to protect against the river beasts. The bottom of the raft got plates and spikes too. We completely rebuilt the structure on the deck. Now it offered protection not only against bad weather, but danger too. We fixed the rudder, but didn’t put the mast back up — according to the players that had been living on the raft for three days, there was almost no use in the sail — it didn’t provide enough power to go against the current, and gusts of wind span the Dreadnought unpredictably and dangerously. And we had the winged veyer as sentry. He could fly high into the sky, so there was no need for anyone to sit in the crow’s nest atop the mast. The veyer may not speak our language, but he understood simple questions and tried hard to be useful so the humans would let him stay. He was perfectly capable of detecting danger and raising the alarm.

  We got a colossal amount of work done. I have to give due credit to Engineer Max Dubovitsky and Mechanic Edward Samarsky here — those two were in their element. They did the work of ten men with their class abilities, and they leveled up fast. More than that, they invented and built a rotary ballista and set it in heavy ballast on the deck. It could fire six-foot-long arrows over four hundred paces. It even had good accuracy — at two hundred paces, Varya Tolmachyova hit a target three feet wide with at least two of her four shots. Then she hit a winged reptile circling a thousand feet above us, killing the dangerous beast with one hit before it could catch the veyer.

  Everyone worked. The Thief, the Baker, the Philosopher, both the girls. I was no slouch either. I worked as hard as I could, taking on the most physically demanding jobs. I carried logs, lifted loads, held huge shields hammered together with planks. So I wasn’t particularly surprised when my Strength stat went up to nineteen. That was the second time that stat had increased since I arrived in the new world.

  In the morning, while towing the raft on the creeping crocodiles, my Riding went up two levels, to thirty-eight. And throughout the day, my Item Crafting skill gained four whole levels, to thirteen. My level progress bar steadily filled up. Sergeant only had a little way to go to get to level nineteen, just a sliver. But only at dusk, when the main work to rebuild the raft was done and we were packing up our tools, did the level-up finally come!

  Heavy Armor skill increased to level nine!

  Your character is now level nineteen!

  Reward: three skill points (total available: six) and one mutation point (total available: six).

  The wound on my back instantly closed up, along with the bruises on my hands from the day (you try hammering in nails with minus three Luck — it’s no fun at all). I bathed in the river under the protection of both creeping crocodiles, washed the mud and sweat from my body, then joined the others by the fire in a good mood. I was handed a bowl of Ashot’s delicious and aromatic fish stew.

  I wasn’t the only one in high spirits. All the humans laughed and smiled, making fun of the Philosopher when he started yet another deep conversation on the meaning of life in the new world, but then got his own opinions confused. The Philosopher himself laughed along with the rest, then suddenly turned serious and said he’d finished his scientific investigations. The days in the new world were equal to roughly twenty-seven hours and forty-two minutes. The daytime was sixteen hours and three minutes, and the days were getting shorter. That ratio of daylight to darkness put us somewhere in the middle of August. And that meant the warm time of the year would soon be over. Autumn was coming, then winter with its frosts. The Philosopher hadn’t figured out just when winter would come — to do that, he needed to determine the autumnal equinox, when the day and night would be equal, after which he could figure out the length of the local year. But in any case, carefree summer was ending, and we had to prepare.

  That wiped the smiles off our faces. We already knew the winters here were harsh. We learned that from Pan — the only one among the first group of settlers who survived the cold part of the year. I suddenly realized that everyone around the fire had stopped talking. All eyes were on me, waiting for some decision from the leader, or at least a comment.

  “We need a strong, warm house. We can’t build anything solid enough on the raft. But the sherkhs won’t let us settle here. They lay claim to these lands and have forbade all humans from settling them,” I began. This wasn’t news, but they listened to me closely all the same, hanging on every word. “We need to go downriver and find a place there. We’ll probably have to come to an agreement with the New Pharaohs, since all the land there belongs to their guild.”

  The Philosopher cleared his throat. “That means paying tribute
to the slavers,” he said, “or somehow earning the right to settle another way.” The sad faces of the assembled made it clear that they hated the idea of joining that cult willingly.

  I hurried to offer an alternative:

  “Or we grind hard and level up until everyone in our group reaches level twenty-five, so we can wave good-bye to the local guilds and head through the barrier, out into the wider world. We can get out of the sandbox further downstream, on the raft. Judging by the partial map we have, the river flows southwest. I don’t know if there are any waterfalls, rapids or any other obstacles in our path, but if we keep going, we can take all our gear at once. The animals can follow on the bank. Or we could abandon the raft and head east on our mounts. There’s a lot less travel that way.”

  I heard murmurs of approval — my group liked the idea of getting out of the sandbox soon and putting the past behind them, along with the punishers, slavers and the conflict between the humans and sherkhs. All they argued about was the route — east or southwest? Each path immediately found its supporters and opponents.

  I personally preferred the easterly option. That was the way I had to go to catch up to my tufted-eared girlfriend Shelly, and reunite with the group of settlers that my sister and I escorted to the barrier. They’d made a good impression on me. I felt confident we could join forces with them. But Rumbler’s group had gone east too, and the former ‘partial’ villagers had issue with them. And I somehow doubted that Yarik and Viking would be glad to see me. All the same, these were minor problems. We could deal with them.

  The trouble was that most of my group wanted to go on the raft. Varya Tolmachyova insisted most strongly on that route. The Scout convinced the others that if we went that way, we wouldn’t have to leave anyone or anything behind. The cruel arachnoscorp Marsh Mistress could fit on the raft. And Atlas and Irosaurus Regina could run along the bank. I didn’t get the impression that it was care for our things or mounts that moved Varya. I got the feeling she wanted to stop me seeing Shelly, although she would never admit it.

  “Also, regardless of what route we choose, we probably won’t be moving out of the winter zone,” the Philosopher said. “So we’ll need warm fur clothes, and we’d better get them now.”

  We started trying to remember where we could find some animals covered in thick fur. There were only reptiles, large insects, birds… not what we needed at all. What about the Chimeric Monkeys? I didn’t want to tangle with those dangerous beasts at all. I remembered just one predator covered in fur, which the Marsh Mistress had swallowed up on the way from the barrier to the old fortress. Varya also mentioned seeing creatures covered in thick fur in her wanderings in the woods, but they were all huge and highly dangerous. Going after them with a bow or slingshot would be suicidal. It could only be done on a strong mount, and even then the outcome wouldn’t be assured.

  “There are a couple of dozen bone plates left,” the Engineer said, sounding tired from our endless day, but very satisfied with all that we’d done. “Sergeant, I can make some armor for the Marsh Mistress to cover up her most vulnerable parts, her abdomen and front legs. But it’ll have to be tomorrow. It’s getting dark fast, and we need to get far out into the river to avoid the night beasts.”

  I was about to tell them that we didn’t all have to sleep on the raft — the weather was good, and we could stay on the bank by the fire or use the makeshift beds built high up in the trees — but I froze open-mouthed. I heard a child crying from afar. The others heard it too. They fell silent and turned in surprise in the direction of the sound. I saw the sherkh from twenty paces away, hidden in stealth. I didn’t reveal that I’d detected him — first I let the invisible visitor get closer and show himself. Herself, as it happened. A girl in dark clothes. White hair, long ears, with a longbow and quiver at her back… and a baby in her arms!

  Anita Ur Vaye. Sherkh. Female. Guild: Eastern Garrison. Level 45 Huntress.

  She turned visible three paces from the fire, knelt down and carefully put down the crying child wrapped in a blanket. It was human!

  Hope Matthews. Human. Female. Guild: Rumbler’s Refuge. Level zero Infant.

  It was Rita’s daughter! Why was she with a sherkh Huntress? Anita Ur Vaye explained the situation in fairly plain language, her accent barely noticeable:

  “Her mother went beyond the barrier with the other humans, but the child was left behind. The woman stayed on her knees at the transparent barrier and wailed, trying again and again to reach her daughter, bundled up on the other side of the forcefield. I couldn’t stand the sight. I picked the girl up and decided to bring her to humans.”

  The Huntress considered her mission complete, and turned to leave. But I called to the sherkh girl and caught up with her. I bowed low to thank her for caring for Hope, then asked whether the Huntress belonged to Avelia Un Ponar’s group.

  “That’s a military secret!” Anita cut me off coldly, but I put the question to her another way:

  “I just want to know — do you know Avelia? The Swordmaiden has my cat. I’m worried about him. Is Avelia feeding him? Is she being nice to him?”

  The girl relaxed instantly, losing all her ferocity. She even smiled a little.

  “Don’t worry, the leader’s daughter adores that ginger critter. She won’t hurt him. And she’ll feed him. Actually, we both fed him last night, and I left her some more meat for him. He’s so cute!”

  The girl stopped, smiling, apparently remembering fun times with the playful cat. Then she looked around to make sure nobody could overhear us, lowered her voice.

  “I have to admit, I envy her. If you find another animal like that one, Beast Catcher, I’d be willing to discuss buying it. The sherkhs don’t trade with other races, but I’m sure we could come up with something that doesn’t violate our ancient traditions. I’ll help you with something. Or tell you where to find old towers with artifacts.”

  In my view, what she offered sounded a lot like trading, but I didn’t split hairs. I felt lucky enough that the Huntress was willing to talk to me. Anyway, I didn’t even have a second cat. Oh, and Avelia Un Ponar is the daughter of a sherkh leader? Wow! Good to know.

  “Yeah, I’m familiar with your traditions and I won’t violate them. So I won’t ask you to join us for dinner, although our professional chef has made some amazing fish soup. It’s delicious and even gives you bonus strength and resistance to cold. If you want some, I can leave a bowl somewhere out of camp and you can ‘steal’ it from us. Your customs don’t stop you from stealing edible supplies from careless humans, right?”

  Anita broke into a smile, giggled. She sure was a lot more spontaneous and relaxed than her friend Avelia. And noticeably younger. Admittedly, I didn’t know how old Avelia was. By human measure, the Huntress standing before me was just seventeen or eighteen. She was always smiling, enjoying life. It made sense that the chief’s daughter would have to be more serious and serve as a symbol of strict adherence to all the sherkhs’ laws and customs.

  “My friend told me you’re fun, and not like other humans. Now I see what she means. Alright, Sergeant, I don’t mind teaching your lazy guards a lesson for carelessly leaving soup around. And if you want, I can share some fresh vegetables and healing herbs. I picked them today.”

  “Thanks! By the way, I wanted to ask you about something… Arvedo Un Ponar told me yesterday that the sherkhs have sentenced me to death. Then he attacked me. Well, actually, first he attacked, then he explained why.”

  The girl just shrugged, looked perplexed.

  “If that were so, then I’d have heard about it. And then I wouldn’t be talking to you at all, human. But Arvedo… he really is a strange one. I think there’s something wrong with his head. To be honest, I’m afraid of him.”

  The sherkh girl suddenly cut off, her expression turning serious; two of my group were approaching us from the fire, Ashot and Varya. Paying no attention to the sherkh, Varya blurted out:

  “Sergeant, the baby is hungry and keeps crying.
We don’t have any milk to feed her.”

  “Which is why I want to suggest something,” our Baker said, interrupting the Scout. “I have two glass jars with sealing lids. Varya will take me to the barrier on a fast pet, and I’ll find Rita. I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. She can fill the jars with milk for her daughter and I’ll pass it back through the barrier to Varya. And that means you’ll have be able to feed little Hope before dawn.”

  “But then you’ll be beyond the barrier and won’t be able to come back,” I said, pointing out a rather important detail of the Baker’s proposed plan.

  Ashot lowered his eyes, then nodded decisively.

  “Yes, that’s right. But that’s my choice. Sergeant, you may turn out to be a capable leader in the future, but nobody can know that yet. My level has been high enough to go out into the wider world for some time. I don’t see any reason to put it off. And Rita is important to me. If I’d known she was leaving, I would have gone with her!”

  His words on my lack of experience as a group leader might have sounded harsh, but the Baker was just explaining his reasons honestly. I wasn’t offended, and I didn’t plan to force anyone to stay. If he wanted to leave, then he should. I clapped the Baker on the shoulder as he stood tensely awaiting my answer.

  “Well then, Ashot, I wish you good luck in the big wide world! And Rita too. Go pack your things. Take anything you might need from the tools and supplies. Varya will take you on Irosaurus Regina and come back, right?” I stared at the girl in the army uniform. “Or are you going through the barrier too?”

  “Dream on!” Varya mouthed at me silently.

  When the two departed, I turned back to the sherkh Huntress still standing beside me, who had listened to our whole conversation.